A Call to Darkness - Michael Jan Friedman [85]
The dark one told him-but it was a moment before Dan’nor could grasp the import of what Ma’alor was saying.
“How can that be?” he said, as it finally sank in. “Ralak’kai is a Klah’kimmbri. And anyway, that sort of thing has never been part of the Conflicts.”
Ma’alor grunted. “It is now. As I say, they must be desperate. Maybe there’s been a drastic decline in viewership. Or who knows why. The point is that they’re doing it.”
Dan’nor shook his head. “So now what?”
“A change of schedule,” said Ma’alor. “We move sooner than we had planned.” He leaned forward. “I must tell you, it’s going to be tougher than it would have been before. Much tougher.” He let the late evening silence elaborate on his behalf. It did so, eloquently. “Are you still with us?”
Dan’nor nodded.
“Commander?”
“Data-damn, but it’s good to hear your voice.”
“I apologize for my tardiness. There were circumstances here which prevented my communicating earlier.”
“That’s all right,” said Riker, leaning back in his command chair. “Just hang on and we’ll beam you right up.”
The first officer was just about to contact O’Brien in the transporter room when Data stopped him. “Request permission,” said the android, “to remain planetside.”
Riker chided himself. He had just assumed that Data had completed his work down there. “You need more time to locate our people?” he asked.
“I have located them,” said the android, “in a general way. However, precise coordinates are unavailable. Therefore…”
By now, Riker had a pretty good idea of how Data’s mind worked. “You think the quickest way to find them,” he expedited, “is to go after them yourself. Correct?”
“Correct, sir.”
The first officer was all too aware of the need to keep this conversation short-to pack up and retreat to a safe distance again, before the Klah’kimmbri noticed an extra blip in the sky.
But he didn’t want to rush this decision. It was too important-not only to Data, but also to the whole of the conscripted away team.
“You have the means to accomplish this?” he asked.
“I do, sir,” said the android.
“I can’t give you much time. That disease that Fredi had-it’s spreading. Before long, I’m going to have to leave this sector-get us to a starbase. You understand, Data?”
“Perfectly, Commander. Allow me two A’klahn days. I believe that is all I will need.”
The first officer could feel his molars grinding together. “All right,” he said finally. “You’ve got two days-exactly. Riker out.”
He looked to Wesley. The ensign was turned around in his seat, waiting for instructions.
“Take us back to our previous position,” said Riker. “We’re going to stick it out a little longer.”
“Aye, sir.” Wesley tapped in what had by now become familiar coordinates. “Ready.”
“Engage.”
Silently, Riker cheered Data on. If anybody could find the away team in that mess, he could. But in two days?
What the hell did Data have in mind?
Chapter Sixteen
IT WAS COLD up in the hills. The wind raised goose bumps wherever it touched Pulaski’s bare skin.
The day before, shortly after the last of their patients had been taken from them, a horde of silent wagoneers had come and packed up the med enclosure. There had been no warning. But the other meds seemed to accept it, so Pulaski didn’t try to stop it either.
She had been educated by experience. One did not stand in the way of things-unless one was ready to get knocked down. And although the fight hadn’t quite gone out of her, she had determined that she would pick her spots.
No doubt, it was intended that they should set up their installation somewhere else. But where? And for whom?
She didn’t know. Then again, she didn’t know a lot of things-still. In some cases, she had answers-those supplied by the other meds, or even by the warriors-but they were unsatisfactory. Or insufficient.
For instance-what was all the fighting about? And if it was something important enough to risk lives for, why did the lordly ones-the marshals-decline to participate? What was their function, after all-other than to wrench her patients from her before they’d had a